The DJ Was a Doctor
How can a surgeon move the crowd?
Red lines from the scanner analyzed the digital device like a psychologist probes the mind. The smartphone displayed a picture and the master’s degree earned by Blythe Winnington. She smirked as the velvet rope lifted and allowed her into the dark space with booming music. A doctorate holder in economics flashed his tablet at the bouncer, Nimitz Fo. Just a few yards away from the entrance, a group of billionaires, two of them dropouts, took pictures with the newspeople. The group consisted of a wiry American Indian fellow—the skin color of cinnamon—named Horton Billings. Another was a fair-skinned African American woman named Calla Carras. The final was a white woman named Delilah Pill with cobalt eyes who held a bachelor’s degree in computer science.
“So, do you think that you’ll get in this time?” reporter Hardrick Ketter said.
“We just ought to. We are renting the space on which the property sits. They’ve been able to bar us from the club based on our lack of degrees, but we sense that we’ll be able to reconcile and everyone will have a good time,” Calla said.
Camera crews followed the trio to the front of the building. Fo already had his arms folded and his head shaking no.
“You’re not getting in here. The state of Delaware has mandated that only those who hold advanced degrees may enter. It also states that even property owners can be barred.”
Billings looked at Fo square in his eyes, his feet at a 45 degree angle and his hands clasped on his chest.
“We respect the court ruling, but we have a right to protest on our own property whether or not you can allow us to come into the party,” he said.
“You protest all that you want. There’s no entry for WADs.” WADs meant Without Advanced Degrees.
“Look, you're standing on the very ground which we pay a hefty sum for every month,” Delilah said.
Then the DJ put the music on autoplay and journeyed to the entrance for some air. His name was Yurt Sessoms. He was dark-skinned with dreadlocks. As the first recipient of a privately sanctioned doctorate in the state of Delaware, he couldn’t understand the ban on those lacking advanced degrees. He took one look at the crowd of journalists and the three billionaires and his eyes turned to lightning bolts.
“Hey, guys you’ve got to come in here.”
Fo turned to the doctor and said, “You know that the boss wouldn’t like WADs barging their way through this club.”
“How could they barge past you? You’re letting them in, now.”
Dr. Sessoms lifted the velvet rope and returned to his DJ booth. He stopped the music and turned on the lights.
Cameras followed the billionaires who were making history. All of the other party people stopped and glanced with horrified looks painted on their faces. A glass of champagne dropped and shattered. It was the only thing that was audible. That’s how quiet the room became.
“What are you WADs doing in here? You didn’t complete the school of higher learning to earn a master’s or doctorate. Get the hell out of here,” Ugarte Velez said.
Dr. Sessoms took it upon himself to settle the rift on the dance floor.
“As a neurosurgeon, I have been able to heal brains. I’ve also had to contend with warring families who wanted different wishes for the patient. I see here an opportunity to allow these productive, intelligent people who just happened to excel so much in life that they didn’t need a degree beyond bachelor’s or a degree whatever. I’m going to play this music for everyone under the speaker system.”
DJ Sessoms turned off the lights and cranked the volume high. It reverberated throughout the room as the tensions soothed and the floor became alive again. Men and women with advanced degrees danced with those lacking such accolades. The harmony of the room shown through with vigor and enthusiasm.
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
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